The Victim In Blue
by purplepagoda
Summary: What happens when a rape victim is one of their own? How would a cop handle such a thing? It's Olivia's job to connect the dots, and pick up the pieces. She follows all the leads to one place, the doorstep of a detective formerly of the major case squad.
1. One Of Their Own

A young woman walks into the precinct pushing a stroller. Olivia approaches her, guessing that she couldn't be much older than sixteen.

"Can I help you?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

She leads her over to her desk, "Why don't you have a seat?" Olivia questions.

She takes a seat next to Olivia's desk. She parks the stroller next to her, and looks at Olivia. She pushes her long thick blonde hair off her shoulder.

"I don't know if you can help me."

"I can try. Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"Happened? Nothing happened to me. That's not why I'm here. I need your help..."

"What's your name?"

"Emily."

"How old are you?" Olivia questions.

"Sixteen."

"How can I help you Emily?"

"My parents died in a car accident a few months ago..."

"If you think that it was foul play you should go..."

"I don't. I need information."

"Information? About what?"

"I don't know if you can disclose the information that I need. I'm sixteen and I can't take care of a seventeen month old."

"I'm not sure how I can help," Olivia furrows her brow in confusion.

"She's not mine," Emily clarifies.

"I'm still not sure how I can help."

"She's my sister and..."

"Your mother was raped?" Olivia guesses.

"No," Emily shakes her head, "Abigail is adopted."

"What kind of information do you need?"

"I talked to the adoption agency and they wouldn't tell me who the birth mother was, but she told me that the reason she gave Abigail up for adoption is because she was..."

"A product of rape? Why do you want information on the birth mother?"

"My grandmother is in a nursing home in Florida. The only other relative I have is my older brother, and he's in rehab in Connecticut. I can't keep her I'm only sixteen."

"I can't give you information on a rape victim."

"Ok."

"I can try to contact her, but that's as much as I can do."

"Ok."

"Do you know when it happened?"

"Between the last two weeks of June 2008, and the first two weeks of July 2008."

"I'll see what I can go."

"Thank you," Emily sighs in relief as she hands detective Benson her contact information.

As Emily heads out the door of the squad room Elliott passes her with his lunch. He walks over to Olivia's desk and puts the take out bags down.

"How old?" he questions.

"Sixteen."

"With a baby?"

"It's not hers."

"Why was she in here?"

"Her parents adopted the baby and they died."

"Why was she in here?"

"The little girl was a product of rape."

"What did she want you to do?"

"She wanted information about the birth mother."

"Why?"

"She said that she couldn't take care of the baby on her own," Olivia answers.

"So she's going to give it back?"

"I don't know. She seemed desperate."

"You're going to help her?"

"I told her that if I found out who it was that I would try to contact them."

"And say what?"

"I don't know," Olivia shrugs.

"We're not going to get to eat are we?" Elliot questions.

"I'm going to go take a look at some old case files."

"I'll help," he agrees.

Half an hour later their desks are covered with files, and take-out boxes. They each thumb through files.

"Liv how are we ever going to find this woman?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "Just keep looking."

He rolls his eyes, and picks up a new file. He thumbs through the file. "Liv..."

"Did you find her?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"She had a rape kit done, but left the hospital. According to the report the nurse left the room for ten minutes, and when she returned the victim was gone. She left before taking the morning after pill," Elliot reveals.

"Did they ever find out who the victim was?"

"No it was in Queens. They kicked it to us, but, it never came across our desks," Elliot hands Olivia the file.

"It says that the rape kit is still logged in evidence. Maybe we can get a DNA match."

"I guess we're going on a field trip."

After visiting the evidence locker they send the kit to DNA. They're working on paperwork when the lab calls them. Olivia grabs the ringing phone sitting on her desk.

"Benson," she answers.

Elliot listens carefully.

"Ok, we'll be right there," she says into the telephone. She hangs up.

"Who was it?" Elliot questions.

"The lab."

"Did they get the results?"

"They want to see us."

"That can't be good."

"Let's go."

They make their way to the lab. The lab tech sits at a computer, patiently waiting on them.

"You wanted to see us?" Olivia questions.

"You guys aren't going to like this," he reveals.

"Tell us anyway," Elliott demands.

"I'll start with the good news. The perp is off the streets."

"He's behind bars?" Olivia questions.

"He was killed in a drive by six months ago."

"So what aren't we going to like?" Elliott questions.

"I was able to get a match to the victims DNA," the tech reveals.

"And?"

"She's one of yours," he reveals.

"One of ours?" Olivia responds.

"She's a cop," the tech elaborates.

"I'll go," Liv says softly.


	2. 5798

After a couple of hours Olivia finds herself standing at a fellow detective's doorstep. She braces herself as she rings the door bell. She waits patiently, staring at the welcome mat beneath her feet. The door opens and a woman stares at her.

Olivia reaches for her badge and opens her mouth, "I'm..."

The woman standing inside the house cuts her off, "I know who you are."

"I..."

"Why are you here? A detective from the 1-6 comes to visit me out of the blue? There's got to be a reason."

"There is."

"I... you should go," she suggests.

"You obviously don't want to talk about it, but..."

"But what? Why are you here? Now?"

"It's... look I know what happened. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

"So then why are you here?"

"We got a DNA match on the perp."

"All of a sudden you just got a DNA match? After..." she trails off.

"Not quite. Can I come in?"

She steps back and leads Olivia into the living room. She offers her a seat on the couch. Olivia takes a seat, but the other detective remains standing.

"We matched the DNA to a DOA from six months ago."

"So you came to tell me?"

"No."

"Why were you looking into it in the first place?"

"I wasn't. Someone asked me to."

"Someone asked you to?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Let's get everything out in the open," Olivia suggests.

"What are you talking about?"

"I wouldn't have even come across your file, but a young woman came in and asked me to find you."

"Find me?"

"She didn't know your name, and I told her that I couldn't give out privileged information," Olivia reveals.

"But?"

"Did you know that I was a product of rape?"

"That's why you ended up at SVU, but..."

"The girl that approached me today was sixteen. Her parents died in a car accident, and she doesn't have anyone to help her to take care of her baby sister. She wanted me to contact the baby's birth mother..."

"You should leave."

"I'm not here to persuade you to do anything. She asked me to contact you, so that's what I'm doing."

"Why? Why would she want to contact me?"

"She said that she can't raise the baby."

"So what is she planning to do?"

"She didn't say," Olivia admits.

"Why are you here?"

"Have you talked to anyone?"

"That's not any of your business."

"I understand that you want to put the past behind you, and that you want to forget about everything that happened, but we both know that is easier said than done. You're never going to forget this. You might come to terms with it one day but..."

"But what?"

"Life doesn't ever turn out the way we planned," Olivia points out.

"Obviously."

"This is never going to stop chasing you," Olivia ads.

"I know."

"My mother... she never should have had children. My whole life I've questioned why she kept me when she didn't want me. I always wondered what I did wrong. I always wondered what I had done that was terrible enough to make me unlovable."

"Olivia what do you want from me? I can't do anything. I... don't know what you expect from me. What do you want me to say?"

"You're not like her. I'm not asking you to pretend that nothing happened, that everything is perfect, but... Abigail is probably going to spend the rest of her life wondering why no one wanted her."

"So what you want me to pretend... you want me to take her? Do you really expect me to be able to look at her for the rest of my life, and not feel resentment towards her? I can't spend every day for the rest of my life looking at her, being reminded of that night, being reminded of that hell."

"I don't expect that. But you should see her."

"Why? What is that going to do?"

"I've often asked myself what I would do if..."

"It's not as simple as you think. Everything becomes a blur. You wake up one day and six months has gone by, and you realize... you missed it all. You missed every chance to get out while you could."

"I know."

"You spend your whole life wanting one thing, but when it's offered to you... if it's offered to you... you don't want it...not like that. And you hate yourself for it."

"You get married to the job, and then you realize that you've spent so much time trying to prove yourself, that you may not ever get what you really set out for in the beginning," Olivia sympathizes.

"It wasn't an easy decision. To give up a child and..."

"It wasn't the same. You've given up a child before," Olivia points out.

"He wasn't mine. But she wasn't either, really."

"You knew all along you had to give him up."

"I didn't even know that...," she stops, to compose herself.

"It's ok," Olivia reassures her.

"That day I left the hospital so quickly, that I didn't even think about..."

"The morning after pill."

"I just wanted to get home and wash him off of me. The thought of getting pregnant never even crossed my mind. Not until my partner said something about being cranky and..."

Olivia finishes the thought for her, "And he thought it was PMS. Typical man."

"Your partner is..."

"Elliott Stabler, almost as unstable as your partner," Olivia smiles.

"How long have you guys been partners?"

"Eleven, long years. You?"

"We were partners on and off for nine years."

"Everyone assume that you're sleeping together?"

"I've heard rumors," she admits.

"Everyone is convinced that I had an affair with my partner, and nearly caused his wife to divorce him," Olivia reveals.

"The truth?"

"Never happened."

"You want me to prove you wrong, don't you? You want me to prove that...a mother's love is unconditional."

"No, it would be nice. I just want this little girl to have a chance. You used to work vice right?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"Would you really want her to end up..."

"Dead, drugged, or hooking? No," she answers solemnly.

"Just go see her."

"Why?"

"I don't think you'd see him," she admits, "in her. She looks like you."


	3. Guilt and Loyalty

_A/N: The detective is not necessarily from SVU.

* * *

_

Olivia stares at the petite blonde, waiting for a response.

"Olivia..."

"You wait for prince charming to come along, and by the time you realize that he's not coming it's too late."

"I gave up on prince charming long ago," she answers.

"I don't believe that. You can't tell me that you don't wonder how things would have been if..."

"If what?"

"If your husband hadn't died. If you had gotten your fairy tale life."

"Fairy tale? You don't know what you're talking about Detective Benson. My marriage wasn't a fairy tale. My marriage was on the rocks. Neither of us were ever home, and... I loved him, but I knew that it wasn't going to last."

"You knew?" Olivia questions.

"We were happy for a while. I loved him. I wanted a fairy tale. I wanted what everyone wants, a husband, a cute little place outside of the city, and a couple of kids."

"But that dream was ripped away from you the day that he died?" Olivia questions.

"I gave up on that before he was murdered. One night I came home, and out of the blue he told me that he didn't want kids. He said that he couldn't imagine bringing a child into this world."

"Cops, they're jaded," Olivia points out.

"He was right," she admits.

"I'm not naive, I know how difficult it is to overcome a past, especially one that you'd like to forget. I know that what happened... nothing will ever make it better, or make it right, but..."

"But what?" she cuts Olivia off.

"You can play the victim or you can play the hero, it's really up to you."

"Don't you think that I know that?"

"I don't know. I just know that there is a little girl who needs someone, someone to love her, and protect her," Olivia answers quietly.

"That's all I wanted. That's why I didn't keep her. I wanted to find someone who could love her and someone who could protect her," she admits.

"Protect her from who, though?" Olivia queries.

"From me," she reveals.

"From you? Do you really think that you're capable of hurting an innocent child? You're a cop, you might be able to take someone's life, but I don't think that you could ever hurt a child."

"I'm not convinced, and I wasn't willing to take the chance," she divulges.

"You couldn't hurt a child, especially your own," Olivia points out.

"How do you know? I'd like to think that's true. The whole time I was pregnant, I kept thinking that I should be angry, but I wasn't. I was completely numb, I didn't feel anything. The day I found out I was pregnant I didn't even cry. I wanted to. I kept thinking how whatever was growing inside of me was a monster. I would have nightmares that I gave birth to the devil."

"Why did you do it?"Olivia questions.

"Do what?"

"Why did you have her. You didn't have to. You could have..."

"I couldn't."

"For moral reasons?" Olivia inquires.

"I'm pro-choice, but... I couldn't do it. I can't even really tell you why, I just couldn't go through with it. I knew that I could never raise her, but...I wanted her to have a chance."

"I really think that you should see her. I don't you expect to take her home with you, and pretend that everything is hunky-dory, and be a happy little family."

"Olivia why would you ask me to see her?"

"I'm not trying to torture you, or bring up the past, I know that it probably will, but..."

"But what?"

"You've had time to detach yourself from the situation. Maybe now you can look at her and you won't see a monster, or a demon spawn. She's a beautiful little girl."

"What would you do? If..."

Olivia cuts her off, "I've never been able to answer that whole-heartedly. I don't really know. I'd have to be in the situation before I could answer that."

"You don't know what it's like. I spent my whole pregnancy wishing that I could feel something. That I could feel a connection to her. I prayed that I'd have her, and everything would change. I wanted to love her, to want her, but I couldn't. I felt guilty knowing that I was never going to be able to love her. I hate myself because I know one day she's going to ask why I didn't want her. She's going to wonder, and... my answer isn't good enough."

Olivia shifts in her seat. Olivia stares at the detective, as she fidgets on the arm of the chair adjacent to the couch.

The woman looks back at her with eyes filled with guilt. She casts her brown eyes onto the floor. She stares at the coffee table between them. Silence fills the room.

"Would you really wish your childhood on anyone else?"

"No, but my mother was an alcoholic. You're not like her. You're compassionate, and...you're nothing like her," Olivia reveals.

"Does it matter?"

"I don't know. All I know is that if my mother had been a different person I would have been a different person," Olivia sighs.

"Why did she keep you?"

"I don't know. I wish that I did. I'd like to think that she saw me, and part of her loved me too much to let me go, but...she never told me."

"You never wish that you had a different family? You never wondered what it would be like to have been given up for adoption?"

"Don't we all?" Olivia replies.

"I guess that we do, at one point or another."

"You're a legacy. Growing up a cop's kid couldn't have been easy, either," Olivia goads her.

"I never wanted to be a cop."

"For someone who never wanted to be a cop, you're a pretty good one," Olivia compliments.

"I learned to be a good cop, but I've never loved it the way that my dad did. You're on the losing side a lot as a cop. I'm tired of losing. It's taken a lot from me," she admits.

Olivia's eyes meet hers.

She continues, "A husband, a partner..."

Olivia finishes, "The life you always dreamed of having?"

"I'm just tired of always having to pick up pieces."

"Your partner... I heard what you did for him, it was the right thing," Olivia commends.

"He was my partner."

"You're a loyal partner," Olivia adds.

"Being a cop, is the only thing I'm good at."

"You don't know that," Olivia argues.

"There's no evidence to show otherwise," she counters.

"Part of being a good cop is being a good person. I don't know about you, but I've seen enough to have trouble sleeping at night. I don't anything extra weighing on my conscience. Can you really handle wondering about her for the rest of your life? Wondering what happened to her, where she is, if she's ok? You might never know," Olivia concludes.

She shakes her head, and turns away from Olivia. Olivia vacates her seat on the couch.

"I should get going. I've wasted enough of your time," Olivia says softly.

She doesn't argue. She leads Olivia to the door. She opens the door, and Olivia steps out. She turns and faces the petite female detective standing inside the doorway. Olivia pulls out a card. She places it in the palm of the other detective's hand. Olivia closes the woman's fingers around it.

"Call me if you change your mind," Olivia begs. Olivia turns to leave. She gets into her car. She hears the door close. As she pulls away from the house she feels guilty for asking. She turns down the street, and heads back towards the precinct.

* * *

_A/N: Have you figured it out yet? I've been giving you clues all along. From the title of the chapters, to the details about the detective. =)_


	4. Nature VS Nurture

That night sleep doesn't find her. She tosses and turns, trying to get Olivia's words out of her head. She stares at the doorway, trying to block out any mental images. She realizes after a couple of hours that her efforts are futile.

"Get a hold of yourself," she insists in the dark. She leaves her bedroom, and wonders into the living room. She flips grabs the remote controller, and curls up on the couch. She turns on the T.V. and snuggles under a blanket. She watches TV until she's certain that her eye sockets are void of any moisture. Finally around four a.m. after a restless night of infomercials she drifts off.

Sometimes dreams take us from reality, the give us peace. She finds herself dreaming of reality. But her reality is a nightmare. She sits up, in a cold sweat after three hours of sleep. She looks around, realizing that this wasn't a nightmare that was going to end any time soon. In fact, she realizes, it may never end at all.

She stumbles into the kitchen, and turns on the coffee maker. She takes a seat at her kitchen table, yawing widely. As the coffee begins percolating, her eyelids attempt to meet. Once the coffee finishes brewing she pours a cup full. She returns to her seat at the kitchen table, drinking the coffee as quickly as humanly possible. She pays no attention to the fact that the coffee scalds her tongue, or that she drinks it so quickly, she doesn't even taste it.

She pours another cup, and moves back into the living room. She turns off the TV, and slowly sips the second cup of coffee. After a bowl of cereal, and the second cup of coffee she heads into the bathroom for a shower.

Her shower makes her sleepy, but she ignores the desire to pass out on her bed. She towels off, and dries her hair with a hair dryer. She slips into some comfortable clothes. An NYPD t-shirt, in grey, with blue writing, and a pair of athletic pants. She pulls on socks, and shoes. She ties the shoes by the door. She slips her keys in her pocket, and leaves the house.

She barely makes it to the end of the block. She stops, completely drained, and turns back. She doesn't even run home. She slowly walks back. When she steps into the house she slips off her shoes, and throws down her keys. She slams the door behind her, and locks the four locks on the door.

She goes into the kitchen, and gets a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. She closes the door. On the door she stares at Olivia's card. Her phone vibrates in her pocket. She ignores the call. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to her sister. She plays the voicemail, in the chance that it might be important.

"Alex, it's Liz. Call me back when you get this. I haven't heard from you in a couple of days, I was just wondering where you are, and why you're not answering your phone." The message ends, and Alex places the phone on the counter.

The card on the refrigerator taunts her. She pulls the magnet holding it, off the fridge. She takes the card in one hand, and replaces the magnet with the other. She stares at the business card. She crumples it up and throws it in the trash can.

She grabs her phone and begins dialing. After several rings someone answers.

"This is Detective Benson," Olivia answers.

"This is Alex Eames," she answers.

"I'm glad that you called. Did you change your mind? It's ok if you didn't."

"I don't want to have to meet the sister. I don't want to have to explain myself to her."

"I can understand that. I'm sure that I could figure something out. Why don't I call, and see if maybe I could bring Abigail by to see you?"

"I guess that would be ok," Alex answers.

"Great, I'll talk to you later," Olivia concludes.

Alex hangs up without another word. Around eleven Alex dozes back to sleep. An hour later she is awakened by someone knocking on her door. She jumps up quickly, and heads to the door. She looks through the peephole, and finds Olivia standing on the other side.

She unlocks the door, and pulls it open. Olivia stands on the other side of the doorway with a little girl holding her hand.

"Come on," she coaxes gently.

The little girl looks up at her and smiles, "No!"

Olivia bends down, and hoists the baby onto her hip. She steps into the house, closing the door behind her.

Alex's gaze shifts from Olivia to the baby, and back again. Finally she locks eyes with the blue eyed little girl. She stares at the baby for several moments. The little girl with dirty blonde hair stares back at Alex with a smile on her face.

"Alex this is Abigail," Olivia finally breaks the silence.

Alex reaches for the little girl, "Give her to me," she insists.

Olivia gladly obliges, sliding the little girl into Alex's eager arms. Abigail leans her head Alex's shoulder. Alex stands in silence. Olivia watches them closely. Abigail seems at ease in Alex's arms.

"Are you sleepy?" Olivia asks the baby girl.

"No!" she answers quickly.

"Is that the only word you know?" Olivia smiles at the little girl.

"Baby," Abigail answers with a squeal.

Olivia slides the diaper bag off her shoulder, and opens the flap. She pulls out a stuffed baby doll. Abigail reaches for the toy. Olivia hands it to her. Abigail holds onto Alex with one hand, and her baby with the other.

"Talk to me," Olivia asks softly.

"What do you want me to say?" Alex questions.

"What are you thinking right now?"

"How could I not love her? What's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you," Olivia rebuts quickly.

"But I didn't want her. I never wanted her. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I'm the monster."

"You're not a monster. You did what you thought was best."

"No. I made the decision for myself. I was selfish, I only thought about what I was going to feel. I didn't care how I was going to make her feel."

"It's only natural. No one would expect you to keep her, no one would even expect you to have her. It's only natural for you to feel mixed emotions about her. She's part of you, but the other part..."

"It shouldn't matter," Alex admits.

"It does matter. It wouldn't be fair to look at her everyday and feel resentment toward her. It wouldn't be ok to look at her and feel like this was a punishment. In the back of your mind you're always going to wonder, no matter how things turn out, or don't. You're always going to wonder if she's going to be like him. You're always going to wonder when nature is going to overcome nurture."

Alex doesn't say anything. She simply looks at the little girl. She clings to Alex as she sleeps soundly, and peacefully. And in that moment Alex's heart shatters into a million pieces. She brushes a strand of find blonde hair out of Abigail's face. The baby doesn't stir.

Olivia watches carefully, finally revealing, "She cried the whole way here. She was crying when I picked her up."

Alex quickly concludes, "She must have been sleepy."

"Maybe," Olivia answers doubtfully.


	5. Mess Of Me

She lies awake in her bed, feeling conflicted. She rolls over, and feels something missing. There were always missing pieces in her life, but now... maybe this time she could fix it. Maybe she could get one of the missing pieces back, but... maybe she shouldn't.

She rolls over and grabs her phone. She doesn't even take a look at the digits on the alarm clock next to the phone. She dials a familiar number. It rings a couple of times and then finally someone answers.

"Hello?" he answers.

"I need your expert opinion."

"Eames it's three o'clock in the morning."

"Like you're sleeping?"

"I'm not, but you should be."

"Couldn't sleep."

"And you need my expert opinion? That can't be good."

"I..."

"Something wrong?"

"Not wrong, just..."

"Are you planning on falling asleep anytime soon?"

"No," she answers.

He hangs up without further explanation. She doesn't give it a second thought. She spends the next forty seven minutes staring at the clock that is taunting her silently. She hears someone knocking on the door. She unlocks it, and pulls it open without checking to see who it is first.

He steps past her, closing, and locking the door behind himself. He doesn't say a word. He hugs her tightly. She relaxes for a millisecond, and he lets go. He takes a step back from her.

She looks at him graciously, thankful he came to save her from herself. Usually it was the other way around, but lately she had been the one on the slippery slope towards insanity.

He notices her eyes are red, and blood shot. He surmises it's related to her lack of sleep, and... she looked as if she'd been crying.

"You didn't have to come here in the middle of the night."

"You don't usually call me in the middle of the night, unless it's about a case, and... obviously it's not about a case."

"No."

"So what's wrong? Why do you look as if..." he stops mid-sentence and leads her to the couch.

"Bobby..."

"Alex," he says softly, "whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm the crazy one, anything you say is going to..."

"I'm not so sure."

"Not so sure what?"

"That you're the crazy one. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"We all feel that way sometimes."

"Have you ever heard of Olivia Benson?"

"Sure, why?"

"I..."

"You called me at three o'clock in the morning to ask me about a detective from the 1-6? She works for SVU. Alex what's going on? Did something happen?"

"She called me the other day."

"About what?"

"It's a long story."

"Do I look like I'm going anywhere?"

She changes the subject, "Did you know that she's a product of rape."

"Ok..." he looks at her questioningly.

"Her mother raised her."

"And?"

"What do you think about that?"

"That's why you called? You want to know what I think about her mother raising her, even though she was a product of rape?"

"Yes," Alex nods.

"I don't know that much about Olivia. I've heard good things about her, she obviously turned out fine. I'm sure that she's got a lot of baggage but... what is this really about?"

"Do you think that she would have been better off if her mother had given her up for adoption?"

"I can't really say. I don't know that much about Olivia, or her mother."

"Hypothetically what do you think?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think that there could ever be a situation where it would be best for the child to remain with the mother even..."

He stops her, "It depends on what kind of person the mother was. It would be hard for a woman to be able to see past the rape, and truly see that child as anything other than a product of rape. Don't you think?"

"I don't know."

"I don't think someone should have to be reminded of that event everyday of their life. It would take someone extremely compassionate, and selfless, loving, understanding, and forgiving to be able to take care of that child without causing any detriment. I guess that with intensive therapy to overcome the emotions associated with the rape that maybe it would work. Why are you asking me this? Why did you call me about this at three o'clock in the morning?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know? It must be something for you to be wide awake at three o'clock in the morning," he accuses.

"Olivia called me about a case."

"One that we worked?" he questions.

"No."

"Why would she call you about a case?"

"I told you it's a long story."

"Tell me," he insists.

"She came across a file and..." her voice cracks.

"And what?" he asks softly.

She takes a deep breath, "It was my case file," she answers slowly.

"Your case file?"

She blinks, and looks away from him. She stares at the floor, and picks at her cuticle. "Yeah," she answers solemnly in a nearly inaudible tone.

"I don't understand," his tone expresses concern.

"A little over two years ago..." she begins.

"What happened?" he begs for an answer.

"About two years ago... I was coming home and..." she trails off.

"You can tell me anything," he assures her.

"I know," she whispers.

"So tell me," he insists.

"I was raped," she reveals tearfully.


	6. Going Crazy, Please Stay

He envelopes her in a hug. "It's ok," he promises.

"No it's not," she argues pushing him away. "I should have stopped it. I shouldn't have let it happen. I've got a gun, and a taser and..." tears begin to fall.

"There's nothing you could have done," he answers.

"I should have fought harder," she replies.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"When I got to the hospital I refused to give them my name. After they did the rape kit, I couldn't take it anymore. I bolted, I just wanted to get home, and take a shower. I just wanted to get him off of me. But I couldn't. It didn't matter how hard I scrubbed because it never went away. And then..." she trails off again.

"And then what?"

"After a couple of months I finally started sleeping again. But it didn't last long," she admits.

"Nightmares?"

"A living hell," she answers.

Suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head. His heart sinks, as he looks at Alex. She looks broken and he begins to understand. "You did take the morning after pill before you left the hospital, didn't you?" he queries.

She shakes her head as tears fall freely. He hands her the box of tissues from the coffee table. She quickly wipes her tear stained face.

"I made a huge mistake," she admits.

"You did what you had to," he responds, making an assumption about her choice.

"But I don't know what's right, and what's not anymore."

"You really think that you would have been happy, raising that child?"

"I don't know. I thought that I would be miserable, that I would ruin her life, that she would ruin mine but... now I'm not so sure," she sobs.

"You can't change the decision you made."

"I think I made the wrong choice, maybe I'm just losing my mind."

"You only get one choice," he reminds her delicately.

"But I can fix it," she admits.

"Fix it?" he looks at her questioningly.

"Maybe I can't, I don't know. I need to know what to do."

"I don't know. I don't know what you can do," he admits.

She looks at him, reading him carefully. She shakes her head gently, "I didn't have an abortion," she reveals.

He looks into her eyes, and his heart aches for her. He swallows hard, trying not to show weakness, trying not to reveal too much. He wishes he could fix it. "Oh," is all he can manage to get out.

"I just gave her up, like it was nothing. I didn't even hold her the day she was born. I told them to take her, that I didn't even want to see her. They tried to dissuade me, but it didn't work. I..."

"You feel guilty?"

"How could I not? She was my flesh and blood just as much as she was anyone else's."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"Say something, anything that will make it better."

"You did what anyone else would have done."

"But I'm not anyone else. I'm not..."

"There's nothing you can do. I'm sure that she's got a family who loves her more than..."

Alex cuts him off, "They died. Her adoptive parents died in a car accident. That's why Olivia called. Their daughter is taking care of Abigail."

"I'm sure she's fine."

"The daughter is sixteen, has no family to help her, and she doesn't want to raise a baby, and give up all of her dreams. Who could blame her?"

"How did you find all of this out?"

"She asked Olivia to find me."

"Are you seriously considering..."

"Does that make me crazy?" she questions before he can finish the sentence.

He looks at her, but doesn't answer.

"I saw her and..."

"It makes you, you. It's not crazy to love your child, no matter who their father is. It's not crazy to want your child. It's not crazy to want to protect your child."

"You don't think I'm losing my mind?"

"Am I really the one you want judging that?"

"So what do I do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I..."

"You do know. I can see it."

"How do I explain it? How do I... what if I..."

"What if what?"

"What if I hurt her or..."

"You could never hurt her."

"What if I..." she rambles.

"What if you stop doubting yourself, and actually deal with your feelings, just once?"

"Aren't you the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Maybe."

"What am I doing? I've got a seventeen month old daughter and..."

"Breathe," he suggests.

"I can't. I..."

"Alex," he says softly, "you don't have anything to feel guilty for," he points out, reading her mind. "You didn't do anything wrong."

She doesn't say a word. She stares at him, waiting. She waits for him to run, to tell her that she's crazy, and just walk away.

He watches her quietly. He sees the pain in her eyes. He sees her begin to crack. He moves toward her. He stops in front of her. He wraps his arms around her. This time she doesn't push him away. Finally she takes a breath.

"If you want this, I will help you. We'll find a way to get what you want," he promises.

"What if it's too late?"

"It's never too late," he argues.

"Do you think that I'm crazy to do this? To want to do this?"

"I've always thought that you were a little crazy, you'd have to be to put up with me as your partner for nine years. But I don't think that you're crazy for wanting to do this. I'd think that you were crazy if you didn't. Let's face it, I know you better than you ever wanted me too. I know too much..."

"That's for sure," she admits.

"Eames you should get some rest. You don't think straight when you're sleep deprived," he points out.

"I know."

He follows her into her bedroom. She crawls under the covers, and he sits on the edge of the bed, watching her. He waits until her breathing evens out, and he gets up to leave.

"Stay," she begs in a small voice.

"I'll just be on the couch," he answers.

"Ok," she agrees.

"Goodnight Eames," he whispers, as he heads for the door.

He flips off the lights, throughout the house. He lies down on the couch, grabbing the blanket off the back of it. He closes his eyes, and just listens.


	7. A Word of Advice

He too finally begins to relax. Eventually he drifts to sleep. After a few hours he's awakened by screams of terror. He sits up, and looks around. After a few moments he realizes what's going on. He gets off the couch, and heads towards her bedroom. He stops in the doorway. She screams, and thrashes in her bed. He enters the room, and walks over to her bed. He gently places his hand on her.

"Eames, wake up," he says gently.

Finally the screaming stops. She looks up at the man standing over her.

"Eames, it's me," he reminds her.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," she apologizes.

"It's ok. You should go back to sleep," he suggests.

"I don't know if I can," she admits.

"Just close your eyes and relax."

"Has that ever worked for you?" she retorts.

He turns on the lamp. He looks at the bed, and smirks.

"What?" she questions.

"I can see why you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. You've nearly hung yourself with your bedclothes."

She kicks the covers off of her. He silently remakes the bed, with her in it. He flips off the light, "Now go back to sleep," he insists.

"I'll try," she admits.

"Do you want me to stay in here until you fall asleep?"

"You're just going to stand there until I fall asleep?"

"No I was planning on sitting in the chair over here in the corner,"he admits.

She doesn't argue. Eventually she falls asleep. He watches, and listens as she sleeps. She rolls over in bed. Her breathing is even, and un-labored. There were things he wanted to tell her, things he could never say, but maybe...he should.

"Are you still here?" she questions after two more hours.

"Are you awake?"

She turns on the lamp, and sits up in bed. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes. He looks at her, with word on the tip of his tongue.

"What?" she questions.

"I don't know how this is supposed to work out for you but..."he stops.

"But what?"

"I know you. I know that you could never hurt a child. If you want to do this then you should."

"What if I ruin her?"

"You won't," he answers quickly.

"Thank you for staying."

"No problem."

"I should go get a shower..."

"Will you be ok if I head out?" he questions.

"Yeah," she nods with a flicker of a smile.

He tries to get her face out of his head. Before he knows what he's doing he finds himself at the 1-6.

Olivia looks up when she hears footsteps. She recognizes the tall man approaching her. She stands up before he reaches her.

"Goren?" she questions.

"Benson?" he replies.

"How's..."

"She's conflicted."

"And you?"

"I'm always around to pick up the pieces."

Fin enters the bullpen.

"Liv we've got to go," he insists.

"Why don't you talk to my partner," she points to Elliot who is standing by the coffee maker.

"Ok," he nods as she walks away.

He approaches Elliot. "You're Goren?" he questions.

"Yeah."

"Can I give you some advice?"

"I guess."

"Don't let her fall apart. Don't let her get in so deep that you can't dig her out."

"I want her to be happy but... I would never ask her to do what..."

"I know what you mean. If the bastard wasn't dead you'd kill him, but you can't."

"What do I do? What do I say? She asked me what she should do, and I... I wasn't sure what to say."

"Tell her the truth. Lies will drive a wedge between you."

"I know."

"You married?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Why?"

"You aren't her partner anymore. What's stopping you?"

"Stopping me?"

"From telling her the truth."

"I don't want to overwhelm her."

"You won't."

"How do you know?'

"If I told my partner the truth... everything would be different. Everything would be better, but I can't because I'm married. I've got kids, I can't ruin that. No matter how much I want to. No matter how much she deserves to be happy."

"You're right," he agrees.

She opens the door. She finds Goren on the other side. She stares at him questioningly.

"I'm ok," she reassures him.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"Is something wrong?" she questions as he takes a seat on her couch.

"I have something that I need to say."

"Ok?"

"Whatever you decide I'll support you. I want to help you in any way that I can."

"I know."

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying. Whatever you do I want to be around to...do it with you."

She doesn't say a word. She sinks into the chair adjacent to the couch. She stares into his big brown eyes. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she finds it hard to catch her breath. She tries come up with something to say. Finally she squeaks out, "Ok."

"Ok?"

She nods, "Yeah, ok."

"You're sure?"

"As long as you're sure," she replies.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I might lose it. I might not be able to handle it," she admits.

"That's ok. I'm here for you," he promises.


End file.
